THE SHORT VERSION
by LeE-81881
Summary: The Harm and Mac story through the eyes of an unexptected observer... enjoy...


THE SHORT VERSION  
  
  
Author: LeE  
  
e-mail: lee_81881@yahoo.com  
  
Classification: Romance H/M   
  
Disclaimers: JAG doesn't belong to me. It belongs to DPB and CBS. I'm just having some fun while procrastinating on work...   
  
Summary: The Harm and Mac story through the eyes of an unexpected observer.  
  
Author's Note: Well, I thought of this while watching TV. It's a short piece of fluff. Hope you like it... And as always, thanks to my amazing beta readers for their help with this!! Enjoy! LeE  
  
  
Just another day at the office; another day like the past seven years. Being in my line of work, one always grows to like certain things, certain people. My wife always says I could get good money for the stories I could tell. Women. Always thinking of money. I adore my wife, but really...A tall, well built man, clad in his Navy uniform comes through the door. He's a full Commander now. I know my Navy insignias. One look at his face and I know why he's here. A woman. The Marine. Let's make the long story short, shall we?  
  
I remember the first time he came in here. Almost seven years ago. I assumed he was new in town, so I introduced myself as he sat down and ordered his beer, which has been his preference since then. Well, he only drinks when she's not with him. But I'm getting ahead of my story here.   
  
"I'm new in town. What's the best you got?" he asked me and I answered with a smile.   
  
Time went by. One day he came in. I noticed his insignias were now those of a Lt. Commander, but his face quickly caught my eye. He was pale, almost like he'd seen a ghost. I told him that same thing and he only said 'You don't know the half of it'. Maybe he believed in ghosts, so I didn't push it any further. Old man like me can't afford getting a tall Sailor riled up at a bar, if you know what I mean. So, he spent about an hour there, drank a few more beers, and left.   
  
A half hour later, this young lady comes in, and asks me the same thing. Just as I'm about to give her the same answer I gave the tall Navy man before, she stops me with a hand and shakes her head. "No, that's okay. I'll just have tonic water with a twist of lime." To go from a beer to what she ordered, well, there had to be a story there, but I didn't push it. Once again, old man can't afford to get a Marine on his bad side, especially a woman, so I let it go and went about preparing her drink.   
  
The next year and a half, the tall Navy man, and the pretty Marine usually came in, sometimes together, sometimes alone. On occasions, they'd come in with their friends from work, leave, and come back later... alone. They always missed each other, though. The tall Navy man used to come in and leave around 11 or so. The pretty Marine came in way later than that. I always wondered what a nice looking woman like herself was doing out alone so late. Guess she didn't do well with sleeping. 'I used to have that problem, too' I told her once, after she related how she wasn't much of a sleeper. 'Problem went away the day I married my Daisy...' She looked at me and laughed. I don't know what she was laughing at. It was the truth, but she never seemed like one to believe much in anything.   
  
I remember, the first and only day I've ever seen her drink. It seemed like such an odd time of day for a working girl like her to be drinking, especially since I'd never seen her drink before. I shrugged and served it. I noticed the tall Navy man wasn't with her and my curiosity was sparked.   
  
"Is you friend coming in as well?" I asked her good-naturedly, avoiding at all costs sounding like I was snooping around. 'Only women do that' I thought and smiled as I pictured the look on my Daisy's face if I told her that.  
  
"Harm?" she sneered. Why anyone would let people call him "Harm" was beyond me, not that her nickname sounded any better. I mean, what woman would like to be called Mac? Marines. Tearing away from my thoughts the tone in her voice really caught me off guard. I'd seen them argue, even mad at each other. The tall Navy man had a loose mouth when his brain was swamped with alcohol, he'd never talked about her in that derisive tone she had just used.   
  
"Nah... he's got more important things to do than taking care of me" Those two drinks she had must've gotten to her a lot more than I expected. Besides, why would the tall Navy man not have time for her? He'd just been at the bar a week ago, and in his drunken haze told me a long convoluted story about his partner dating some clown, having a tattoo, leaving JAG, and coming back. It seemed to me he cared tons for her.Why would a Marine date someone who worked as a clown? Kids. They make it so complicated these days, so I didn't respond to her accusation and went on with my routine at the bar.  
  
Time kept going by. One night, the tall Navy man came in, sat down, and ordered four beers. "Drowning sorrows today, aren't you son?" I said and he simply looked and sighed. So we weren't best friends, but I could tell the poor man had no one else to talk to. That was the first day I heard him curse Australia, and a few days later I understood why. That Aussie irritated the crap out of me, and he never said a word in my direction.   
  
A long time went by. Almost six months and the tall Navy man stopped showing his face around. The pretty Marine still made her routine appearances around 1 or 2 am. Never drank, but she sure struggled with it. Some nights, it almost seemed like she'd come to watch other people drink as a punishment of some sort. Why would a recovering alcoholic want to stick around a place where everyone present at 2 am was either drunk or well under way? I'd found out a few months before that she'd had a problem with alcohol. Not that the tall Navy man had told me in a spurt of drunken dialogue. He'd never talk about her personal life when he was drunk. Guess he respected her that much, even in his inebriated state. But I figured it out. Working at a bar all these years, well, I've learned to recognize the signs. Besides, he always drank soda when she was around, and the grateful glances she shot his way every time he did it was more than enough for me to put the pieces together.   
  
Eventually, the tall Navy man started showing up again, and I found out he'd been at sea, flying some airplane. That surely explained the pretty Marine's mood the past six months. Some time went by, and the day the nice military people got together to say goodbye to the Australian I saw the brightest smile on the tall Navy man's face. When the Aussie walked out the door the tall Navy man and I made eye contact. He gave me a lopsided grin and went on to talk to the pretty Marine, dressed in red.   
  
More time went by. After the tall Navy man's six-month abscence, the pretty Marine was never the same. It was a cold, gloomy, winter night the first time I spotted the ring on her hand. The tall Navy man had been there a few hours before, got half way drunk before I realized he was over doing it and stopped him. He took a few more beers to go and left. The minute I saw the ring on her finger I knew. The tall Navy man was broken-hearted. I took a long look at her face. And then I finally realized the pretty Marine, the one wearing the brand new ring, was broken-hearted too. Whatever the story was behind that ring, I was sure it'd make an awesome script for a movie.  
  
Ten months went by. "I lost her" was all the tall Navy man said that night. I sure hoped that didn't mean the pretty Marine was dead, but I could see in his eyes it was worse than that. The look in his eyes was the one of a man who had lost something he'd never had. Regrets.   
  
"She's getting married on Saturday" the tall Navy man announced to me that night. He looked like hell. His voice was quiet, as always, like telling a big secret the CIA would kill to know. I always knew, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke of her, the way his eyes shone when she was around, the pretty Marine had his number from the start. "So, what are you gonna do?" I asked him, knowing by experience, that even tough he seemed out of it, my words could still get through. The tall Navy man shrugged. "Run"   
  
Two weeks later. "She's the one running now" the tall Navy man whispered, and I was just within hearing distance and turned around. Is running all they teach these military kids at boot camp? Whatever happened to "be all you can be", "accelerate your life" "the few, the proud." All that talk sure as hell wasn't helping either of them. Tall Navy man smiled sadly, stood up and left, limping away towards the door. At first I thought he'd gotten in a fight with the pretty Marine's fiancé. Then I remembered the story in the news. Yep, that was the tall Navy man in that picture all right. What was he doing flying a plane into a storm anyway? Mysteries.  
  
Two months later. "She could've died tonight" the tall Navy man said and sat down at his usual place in the corner of the bar. As always, I made sure my work took me closer to his corner. His eyes fixed on mine and I smiled. I'd seen the news reports on ZNN. Call me crazy, but hanging around military people makes you appreciate international conflict all the more. That Embassy overseas had been under attack, and her picture was there on the news report as well. These two sure made quite a pair.  
  
Six months later. "Merry Christmas, Joe" the tall Navy man said cheerfully. If I didn't know better, I'd say he finally got his head out of his six and kissed the daylights out of the pretty Marine, but after watching them six years stuck in the same place, well, you kinda start losing hope. "Merry Christmas to you, Harm" I said matching his tone. So, okay... I got over it and started calling him Harm as well. It's better than the alternative. Harm smiled at me, ordered a soda, and left. Haven't seen him drink since that night. Guess he has more important things to do, or a more important someone maybe.   
  
Six more months have gone by. Today the familiar figure walks through the door, at a much decent hour. "I got her, Joe" the tall Navy man... Harm says as he sits down on his favorite place once again, and smiles broadly. I smile back as he orders a soda and a tonic water with a twist of lime. I go about preparing the drinks, and my smile grows wider as I listen to him. My eyes dart towards the door when the pretty Marine... Mac walks in. Quickly, she strolls over towards Harm, and her left hand goes instinctively around his arm, her hand entwining with his. A bright flash of light catches my attention. I quickly look down and behold there it is. A ring. I look back at her and immediately acknowledge the glow in her eyes as Harm places as tender kiss on her cheek. Yes, that's love. She looks the complete opposite of the way she looked when she wore the other ring. Well, I bet Navy boy could've bought her a bigger one with all the money he's spent on beer the past six years. Man, that piece of jewelry will sure bring some losses to McMurphy's.  
  
"Thanks, Joe" he whispers as I'm still smiling from the sight they make. "For listening" he finishes and my smile broadens. Their friends from work start coming in. It's been a while since they've had one of those get-togethers where they end up singing their throats out at the end of the night. It sure looks like it will happen tonight, and I can't be happier for them.   
  
"If I could have your attention, please" the tall, distinguished man they all call "Sir" speaks, and the place is silent immediately. "We're here tonight to celebrate the engagement of Harm and Mac..."  
  
The party goes on, the happy couple dances, plays pool and darts, eats, talks, kisses, hugs... I guess I don't really know them, and I'm sure there are many symbolic things I've missed throughout their long journey. But details are not really necessary to understand love when it so bluntly stares you in the face. I've seen them almost every week, for the past six years, and tonight I'm finally seeing who they really are. They're each other's everything. Their love doesn't need explanation, reasons, or justification. No need for long stories, countless pages of rhymes, or endless beautiful songs. It's just good 'ole fashioned fairytale love.  
  
More time will go by. It always does. And there's a time for everything, as my sweet Daisy always reminds me. Tonight is time to celebrate.   
  
END 


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